I absolutely was avoiding trying to figure out my word of the year. Anytime I would think about it, it was like a garage door would slam down in my brain and throw up a closed signed.

Really, I just wanted to tiptoe into the new year and not make a fuss. Like, if I didn’t let the new year know I had showed up, maybe I could get through some of it by hiding.

Which I know is ridiculous. But a girl can dream.

On NYE we had a short gathering at church with a beautiful charcuterie table and the promise to be home before 9. We talked about what’s to come in the next year and took a moment to sit and make space for our word for the year.

And that garage door tried to come down, but before it did I heard a very simple, but christianese phrase:

“Do not fear”.

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard that phrase before the proverbial garage door slammed down, but I thought that it was for all purposes just the reminder to not be afraid.  I wondered in that moment if there could be a word for that- for do not fear.

Now, I know easily it could be fearless or brave. But neither of those felt big enough to me. They didn’t feel like they represented the gravity of the situation- like fearless and brave wouldn’t help me along the way. 

So being the BA in English that I am, I google searched for a word that means do not fear.

Obviously I got a long laundry list of words, but one stood out to me and kind of lit up some anger in my body because it was the exact opposite of what I was going for. It was the opposite of tiptoeing into the new year unassuming.

If my 40 years of life have taught me anything it this that I want you to hear in the least cynical way possible:

The other shoe is going to drop.

It’s just going to happen. 

Whether we believe it or not. 

Whether we walk in hope or optimism or positivity;

It’s just going to happen.

That’s just life. It’s not a punishment because of something or because you’re a good or bad person; it’s just what happens.

Pardon my language; but over the last 5-6 years I’ve had a lot of terrible shit happen in my life. It’s gotten scary to hope that good things would happen. But, as I wrote, in talking about my word reclaim last year, I came to realize that I was the good thing that happened; I was the beautiful thing because I was still here. 

That coupled with the realization that the shoes dropping were just going to happen, my outlook on a lot has changed. Ok, maybe I’m a little cynical, maybe I am having a slight hard time walking into this year trusting that it’s not all going to collapse around me again.

I felt like I lost a lot of time in 2025. For example, I’m currently sitting in a bar and writing. I would either read or write in a bar at least 2-3 times a month. It was my self care, my ability to be around people but still recharge by myself. I haven’t done either thing since May 27th.

Going through photos from last year I was quickly reminded of how much I missed or had to decline to attend. Inside jokes and stories I’d normally be apart of. Birthdays I had to miss. An entire weekend of a show I was stage managing that I was hospitalized.

And of course, a severe lack of mirror selfies.

(I’ll say it again and again, the only way I made it to and through camp was by the grace and strength of God and the strength and determination that was put in me- because the math didn’t add up on that). 

Even today, I looked down at my feet and for the first time in over 6 months one of my ankles wasn’t swollen and it looked like something was wrong because it’s been so long since I have seen it at its normal size.

That + the obvious of getting diagnosed with two autoimmune diseases and being unable to do a lot of things has made me very wary of walking into 2026.

Wary of holding my head high, of making choices to be visible, of just trying to be again.

“Do not fear”

The word that stood out to me in the list of words that could be defined by do not fear isn’t a pretty word. It’s a little aggressive and kind of gritty and will remind most people of a 2010s book series that got made into movies.

My word for 2026 is dauntless.

Dauntless (adj): incapable of being intimidated or subdued.

Yah, no thanks.

That word feels like the opposite of what I thought I’d be coming into this year with. I thought maybe the word hope would hit me in the gut, or trust or something flowery that could easily be embroidered on a sweatshirt in swoopy cursive.

I thought maybe, my word would be something that at least gave me the semblance of ease. 

Instead it’s a word that I’m going to have to learn to walk into. 

In all reality it makes complete sense. I don’t need flowery language or something that will lure me into believing that just because last year held a lot of bad that this year will be sunshine and roses.

I don’t need a word to fall back on that gives me an excuse to hide away.

I need a word that reminds me that I’ve already acted fearlessly.

That I stared a lot of hell in the face and even thought it was literally through pain and tears and dark nights, I wasn’t intimidated and I kept fucking going.

I need a word that reminds me that I got up again. 

I’m without a doubt going to meet scary things this year; even just next week I’m starting the build to being full time again at work. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I was a little scared. 

When your body shuts down on you once, there’s that tiny voice that says it could happen again.

But, I’m gonna do it. I’m going to show up, I’m going to step back into spaces.

I won’t let what was intimidate me into taken what could be.

Dear 2026:

I have a lot of lessons from 2025 that I’m carrying into you.

A lot of things that inevitably have shaped the way I look at things.

But, I’m going to do my best to keep moving forward.

However that may look.

Dauntlessly.

With love,

Meg